


And We Move Forward

by hato



Series: Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda [1]
Category: Aliens (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hato/pseuds/hato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because in some universe out there, they made it out. And they made a home. And they never forgot their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Move Forward

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _Aliens_ and its enormous franchise do not belong to me. I am borrowing the characters for my own selfish whims.  
>  **Warnings:** Swearing, Mentions of PTSD, Non-Explicit Sexual Relations.  
>  **A/N:** Inspired by my friend, Frack, and an unsatisfying childhood.

It’s been a really long time since Ripley found her. 

Newt still remembers it, she’ll never forget, but it’s not as scary now when she thinks about it. She hardly ever has nightmares anymore. And when she does, Ripley or Hicks is always right there by her bed, holding her close and singing that silly song. She’s a big girl, too old for scary dreams and silly songs. But she never tells them to stop singing. 

Her room isn't very big, smaller than her last room. She likes it though because Hicks built a window seat for her that has a lid that lifts up. She keeps her dolls and papers and games in it. And sometimes she hides in it with Hudson, when that scary feeling creeps up on her and she can’t be out in the open with all the lights and easy-to-break windows. Ripley lets her stay in it as long as she wants. As long as she comes out for dinner. 

She likes going to school. Likes her teachers and the other kids. Her best friend, Miranda, is in the same class as her this year, too. Miranda doesn't mind that she doesn't talk a lot or that she has to go straight home after school or that Ripley won’t let her play outside without being right there to watch. Miranda doesn't say nasty things about her or Ripley or Hicks. Some people do. She hears them, some of the kids at school, some of the adults. The things they say about them. About what happened to them. It used to make her cry, but Ripley told her to ignore them. Hicks told her to punch them. Then Ripley and Hicks sent her to her room so they could argue in the kitchen (they were kissing before bedtime, so she guesses they made up). 

She likes living with Ripley and Hicks. They don’t treat her like a baby. They don’t lie to her. They let her decide whether or not to stay with them or be sent to the great aunt that she’d never met. But they don’t let her out as much as the other parents. She has to wear a locator pendent on the chain with her dog tags, all the time. They don’t go to the parties or visit like the other parents do. Ripley has a poker night once a month with the people she works with. Hicks spends one weekend every other month camping with the Marines. She’s spent a few nights at Miranda’s house playing with her cat, Nips. But mostly they stay home, with each other. It just feels safer that way. 

She likes it here. And hopes it stays this way.  
\----------------

It’s been a little over two years since Ripley hauled his ass off-planet. 

Hicks will never forget it. Even though a lot is hazy now, the memories dulled by injury and time and intentional repression. He hasn't had a nightmare in over a year. But that last one... Christ. Most days he doesn't really think about it, the specifics, but he’s constantly aware of it. Reminded every time he looks in the mirror, tries to walk without the limp, tries to see out of his left eye. Reminded every time he listens to Newt’s role call before school, dolls and stuffed animals lined up on the top of the window seat. _Apone. Vasquez. Dietrich. Hudson_ \- her favorite teddy bear. 

Reminded every time Ripley gets that look in her eyes and they spend the night wrapped so tightly around each other they can feel each other’s pulse. 

He hates his job. Maybe hate is too strong a word. He doesn't particularly care for it. He still works for the Colonial Marines, in a diminished capacity. Training Officer. Consultant. They call him in any time there’s some questionable rock formations or weird readings or just a ‘bad feeling’ about some gods forsaken planet they want to invade. He architects survival exercises, tagging along to advise and assess the new recruits. He won’t go on Bug Hunts anymore, though. Ripley made him promise. But he still has to give his professional opinion to the CO and then watch a squad of cocky young soldiers bantering happily, all the way to the transport. Christ, he misses that, he won’t lie. 

Their housing is nice. Not huge, but more than enough for the three of them. Near base, not on. They’d received enough financial compensation from the Company and the military to live any damn where they pleased. Comfortably, in fact. But Ripley had her mind set on Earth. And he wanted to keep working with the Marines. It means a stable life for Newt. Poor kid deserves a place to call home, to go to school, make friends. Have a life. He likes that they like it, and that’s enough for him. Save the money up for Newt’s future. 

He loves having a family again. His squad was his family, for a long time. And he still misses them, but now... 

Newt is the daughter he never knew he wanted. He loves walking her to school, talking about the different vehicles taking off near the base, or picking the weeds growing along the cracked pavement of the drill grounds. It makes him feel important, needed, when she clutches at his shirt hem and asks for a lift. Makes him feel human when she doesn't shy away from the rough scarring. He loves this urge inside him to protect her. No matter what. 

Ripley is the wife he never thought he’d find. Just... He can’t even think too hard on it. Always makes his eyes burn, especially the left. Doesn't think about life without Ripley. Doesn't think about raising Newt by himself. Doesn't think about how much he depends on Ripley’s strength and humor. That gleam in Ripley’s eye. Ripley’s warm body spooned against his chest at night. He makes a point of holding her hand. Every single day. 

He has everything he thought he didn't need. 

\------

It’s been 754 days since she left LV-426.

Ripley doesn't have nightmares. But she thinks about it every single day. Once. In the mornings when she wakes up early to make coffee before Hicks gets up. When she turns in the dimness and watches Hicks sleep for a few moments, runs her fingertips lightly across his forehead smoothed in sleep. When she rises and steps into the next room to watch Newt sleeping with her teddy bear, with the fat tabby cat the girl insisted on naming Bishop curled up at the foot of her bed. Thinks about what she could have lost. Then goes about her day because thinking about it doesn't change it. 

She doesn't hate her job. It’s work and she likes to work. Reinstated as a pilot, she makes cargo drops for a small company contracted with the Marines. Nice, boring, safe. And short so she can pick Newt up from school each afternoon. Made a few friends there, people who don’t stare at her or whisper behind her back. She’s flying and she’s grateful for it. The Company had wanted her to work in their R&D department. The Marines had wanted her to work with Hicks as a xenomorph consultant. She’d flat out refused both, despite bribes and threats. Had nearly left Hicks when he decided to continue with his military career. She knows it’s important to him, but she hates it. Will always hate it. 

She loves this family. It is what keeps her going most days. The normalcy of coming home to make dinner, do the laundry, arguments, making up. This is what she wanted to have by this point in her life, though not as she expected to have it. 

Newt’s wild hair and big eyes, soft voice and keen observations. She loves watching Newt play with her little friend outside. Likes that Newt gets invited to parties even if it makes her suspicious, a bit wary of letting her venture too far from home. She enjoys sitting at the kitchen table with Newt and a stack of scrap paper, gluing together bracelets and crowns, showing her how to fold a simple square into a crane. Never wants to miss a night of silly word games and bedtime stories. Tucking Newt into bed with a kiss on the nose and a promise to be there in the morning. 

Hicks... She loves teasing him in the morning, his voice still rough. She loves watching him eat dinner from across the table, his attention focused on Newt’s newest project. She loves lying on their bed, touching and stroking and moving together until Hicks smothers a moan into her shoulder and she happily slides into a contented fog. Hicks is safety. Security. Home. 

She has the life she always wanted to have, just not how she planned it. 

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to everyone who reads, kudos' and comments!!!


End file.
